


Twice

by TheThirdTimesACharm



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Forbidden Love, M/M, Porn, Porn With Plot, Romance, Shockblurr, Some Spark Play, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Surprise Appearance from Quickshadow because Intelligance Officers must stick together, This is really just porn, but with plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 16:53:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18286373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheThirdTimesACharm/pseuds/TheThirdTimesACharm
Summary: TFA: Despaired that his longtime affection for his boss Longarm Prime will only end in rejection, Blurr resigns himself to a hopping club to numb his worries away. It’s there he meets a stranger whose intent seems to be the same. Basically, Blurr frags Shockwave AND Longarm.ShockBlurr





	Twice

**Author's Note:**

> I shouldn't be writing other stories when I need to get on the ball with In These Hands, buuuut this idea wouldn't leave me alone after I took a surprise trip and fall into this pairing. So, have at it!
> 
> Oh, the world's slightly AU/Divergent in the fact that there was no civil war. So, Auties and Decepties mingle all the time, no factions but the Cybertronian race. :)

Blurr couldn’t do it. Not because he was a coward or the timing became inopportune, but because one of his coworkers was currently talking to their boss, discussing a subject he had been meaning to bring up.

Quickshadow had beaten him to the confession, as well as the rejection.

“I needn’t remind you that I uphold all seriousness of this office as well as the duties I am laden with. As such I expect each and every one of my agents to strive and hold onto this same resolve.” Longarm Prime was looking at her without a bat of his optics or a twitch of concern for the shattering courage breaking down around her. “Agent Quickshadow, I have heard your plea and must respectfully decline so long as you respectfully accept the responsibilities of your duties as your number one priority.”

Quickshadow looked devastated.

With a nod, the femme said, “I understand, sir. I apologize for bothering you.”

As she turned to leave she hadn’t even given Blurr a single glance, and as soon as her presence left the room those same optics that turned down the affections of a highly desirable femme looked toward him.

“I am sorry you had to be witness to that, Agent Blurr.” Longarm was stacking his datapads, organizing the various objects slapped onto his desk from a previous delivery. “I’m afraid to admit that despite my position as head of intelligence, even I was unaware of Agent Quickshadow’s affections.” Yeah, same for Blurr.

With a short chuckle, Longarm moved his priority from organizing his desk toward focusing on the only other field in the room. “What is your purpose for visiting?”

That was when Blurr felt it; the cramps in his knee rotators, the rush of fluctuating surges in his circuitry, the ramping processor power coursing through his mainframe. He was scared. It was either fight or flee when dealing with fright, and Blurr was so very good at fleeing.

“Agent Blurr?”

Pulling himself away from his mounting anxiety, the blue mech straightened his posture and saluted. “Just-returned-to-give-report-corresponding-to-the-stasis-status-of-Sector-4-27. The-minor-rebellion-has-been-effectively-dissolved-and-reparations-dealt.”

“That is wonderful to hear.” Longarm’s brow plate rose then. “But, uh, where is the report?”

Following his boss’s expectant gaze, Blurr too noticed he had no such file, much less a datapad in his possession, because, obviously, Blurr hadn’t really come into the Prime’s office to report that certain subject. Feeling sheepish, and more than embarrassed, Blurr clicked his ankles and twisted.

“I’ll-get-it-right-away!” And off he dashed.

Blurr had that report typed up, transferred to a datapad, and laid on Longarm’s desk in record time. And he most certainly broke that same record with his race out of the office, giving no room for pleasant greetings or partings. It was at his station he hid away, moping over his self-inflicted predicament. From where he sat he had clear visage of Quickshadow’s station, she wasn’t there, and her absence only reminded Blurr of his own troubles.

Work evaded him for the majority of his clocked time slot. Sitting there, Blurr’s mainframe only replayed the day’s events, paying particular attention to the cycled moment of his coworker’s rejection. That could have been him, it _would_ have been him had he been a nanoklik earlier.

Frag his life, Blurr should know better. Not only was it unprofessional to form relationships within your department, but it was also against actual code. Blurr was honestly surprised Longarm hadn’t dismissed Quickshadow from the entire faction altogether, but, no, Longarm wasn’t like that. He was kind underneath all those pressured due reports; always made sure his employees had proper breaks and prioritized their time-off requests above his own, he even held himself up late at the office and covered for those too worn or ailing. Longarm Prime was the mech of Blurr’s affections for those reasons entirely and he was absolutely damned because of them.

“Leaving early? Are you feeling alright, Agent Blurr?”

Wait, had Blurr really sent off an early leave request? To Longarm? Perhaps he had.

It was certainly nice the Prime had come out of his office to meet the speedster at his station personally. He looked concerned despite having his arms full of filed problems himself. All of this only made Blurr swoon more, which made him further sick.

Blurr nodded. “Yes-sir. It’s-only-two-and-a-half-megacycles-early, but-after-proper-assessment-I’ve-come-to-the-realization-that-my-energy-levels-still-aren’t-balanced-out-from-the-trip-to-Sector-4-27. Given-my-frame-and-components, I-require-a-race-to-properly-discharge-and-rebalance. If-I-am-so-needed, I-can-complete-the-remainder-of-my-shift, but-I-can’t-guarantee-top-performance-efficiency.”

“Well, that does seem like a problem.” Longarm shifted the mess in his arms and leaned over to type in his overriding keys into Blurr’s desk com to allow the early leave. “Permission granted. You’ve earned it. Do take care of yourself. I expect you fully recovered come tomorrow.”

Blurr stood and offered a salute. “Thank-you-sir! I’ll-be-back-to-normal-first-thing-in-the-morning!” At least he hoped.

He couldn’t have raced out of the building fast enough, and even as Blurr zoomed down the streets he couldn’t stop his systems from alerting him to certain unusual readings coming from his spark chamber. He knew he had it bad, alright! It was because of this his components and schematics were all whack. It was his fault and his alone.

Blurr just had to fall for the one mech Cybertron law dictates he can’t have.

Laps around the city were proving too short and ineffective for the intelligence officer, and so Blurr expanded his course. Whilst the roads stretched further and the mileage mounted, his trips around the circumference of the planet itself would later leave him just as unsatisfied. It was only the evening settling in and the onlining headlights and illuminating cities that beckoned him back home.

There was the usual instinct to turn down familiar streets laying way to the path of his apartment complex, but Blurr found his homing speed lackluster. The ETA only dragged on and heightened. When Blurr began to pay attention to the numbers he realized how aimless his drive became, and how slow his frame moved. Even the passing of downtown Iacon’s amplified nightlife failed to elicit some form of awe or thrill in the intelligence officer.

However, it was just as Blurr motored on past Maccadam’s that a message pinged onto his display. The message and sender a familiar face.

‘ _Dude, I don’t know how many times I gotta invite you to get you to finally come. This one makes, what, the 108 th now? Whatever. I’ll keep sending these invites, Blurr, until you fold~_’

There was Rodimus’ text displayed across Blurr’s optics, beside it was the mech’s charming if not obnoxious-to-stare-at-too-long face. The subject of the message happened to be CyberSky, the brand-new nightclub situated in the heart of Iacon, just close enough to Translucentica Heights to get the more than privileged interested in attending its raves and bars. The young Prime had been attending the club since opening and has only ever had good things to say about it.

That said, Blurr wasn’t the type to waste his evening away dancing and drinking with strangers that were only there for optical delight and the off-handed chance to score a berthmate. Since the Academy days he’d been a hard worker, honoring his place in the field above all else, exempt, of course, was his instilled thrill of a race or two. More than once Blurr’s conveyed this message to his old classmate, but Rodimus was never one to give up on a venture of any sort—which was precisely how he landed himself with a Prime title.

However, that night, Blurr was feeling particularly lousy. His races dissatisfied him, and the thought of curling up in his berth at his quiet apartment was something along the lines of abhorrent. Melding into friends sounded like the next best phase of action, however, that seemed to entail following said friends even into their interested places of entertainment.

Why the slag not? Blurr’s never been anyways.

The building was certainly optic appealing; whites and silvers hued the outmost structure, and the multiple arches curving around it gave the place a modern feel. Inside was much more lively and aesthetics were not exactly cheap. There was a center that shot up like a chute, balconies ringing around with each higher level. High-res lighting veined along the walls to the tops of the ceiling, curving around those balconies. There were tanks situated along patches of the walls filled with various liquids and an array of aquatic creatures, and the furnish scattered around spared no expense in structure.

There was a bar on each level, the best one being on base. Tables situated around it, and the stools closest were filled with young and attractive mechs and femmes, each chatting with the other with beautiful smiles and engex drinks in hands. The dance floor, just a few paces away, were filled with the same kind, ‘bots of all shapes and sizes.

It was the pounding sound system that kept Blurr’s attention away from the approaching mech. As soon as a firm hand landed against his back, the speeder twisted himself around in a startle. And there was Rodimus Prime, a wide smile on his lip plates and a laugh from his vocal modules.

“You came! About fraggin’ time!” With a nod, Rodimus motioned to his own posse, many of which Blurr recognized from their Academy days. “I can’t tell you how much shanix I lost to them every trip here, but tonight daddy’s getting paid!”

Blurr didn’t want to humor the fiery mech, but nostalgia and fond ties pulled him closer with a laugh, and suddenly, even in Rodimus and his gaggle of friends’ presence, Blurr was feeling lighter than he had before.

“Come on, I’ll buy you a drink. The engex here is out of this world!” Rodimus motioned him toward the bar, but Blurr couldn’t quite catch every word, not with the vibrations rising up through his pedes and the pitches hammering against his audials. With a tap against his receptors, Rodimus nodded in understanding. He leaned in close, hooking his arm around his friend. “And the beats are wild! After we get a few drinks in your systems, we’re going to hit the floor.”

For the most part Blurr caught what Rodimus was trying to say. The rest he left to interpretation, of which was put on the back processes of his mainframe as he was led to the bar. As soon as he and Rodimus were seated in stools, their orders made, their drinks were instantaneously delivered. Blurr was impressed.

“To a good time. Take a load off.” Rodimus leaned against the bar, drink in hand, raised to tip against Blurr’s. The mech swallowed his portion before Blurr even got a chance to move in the same time.

There was a rising smile when Blurr let the engex touch his lip plates, and it magnified when the substance flowed down his intake. The amount wasn’t nearly enough to rattle Blurr’s frame, but it gave that pleasant sizzle of circuitry he was hoping for. A look was shared between him and his companion, and as soon as Rodimus saw Blurr’s smile the ‘bot brought out his own million watt grin and slapped his hand down onto the bar and demanded more helpings.

There’d been five servings before Blurr felt comfortable enough—or more so charged enough—to head out onto the floor with Rodimus and their peers. And it took two more songs before the third’s melody invoked enough sway over Blurr’s ligaments and joints to move him along to the beats and tempos.

It was pleasant; feeling lost even amongst the mass of models and frames pressed so tightly together. There were optics on them, especially on the way Blurr moved, but he didn’t sense them, there were hands reaching out in need to touch, but Blurr didn’t feel them. The growing desirous fields rubbed against Blurr’s field in all the right ways that he actually couldn’t quite process his own standing. One moment he was swaying in time with Rodimus’ movements, the next his companion had been snatched away by eager hands, his body pulled against a larger mech. Blurr might have met the same fate hadn’t he stumbled into the outer perimeter of the floor, and just then the song shifted into another—one with less pull, at least on Blurr’s senses.

Primus, he needed another drink.

Shuffling back toward the bar, Blurr pulled himself onto a stool and tapped the table.

“Two engex, bartender!” He ordered through the noise.

“Given your weight, frame, and height, I wouldn’t suggest more than one more engex.”

Too bright optics turned to the patron seated beside. Blurr was having a good time; he was in good company, the club was more than energized, the beats were banging, and the drinks were erasing the woes of the day. He wanted to keep that tempo for as long as he could, and if that meant ordering the medicine to do it then he would order as many as he liked. However, the mech seated beside him only seemed to glare down at him with an unreadable expression.

Of course the mech’s expression was unreadable, his helm wasn’t exactly contemporary, and the single optic only seemed to shine down a scarlet light, the hue a near complete contrast in regards to CyberSky’s cerulean atmosphere. He was a warframe, tall and slender, but solidly built. His kind wasn’t the first seen at the club, if Blurr recollected, Rodimus was currently grinding against a warframe on the floor.

It was common knowledge—with more than an exaggeration of stereotypes—that warframes tended to fancy the smaller, slim, and sleek. Or so Blurr, like many others, had assumed.

Sounding a chortle, Blurr nodded to the bartender handing him his two orders. Picking up one he turned in his stool, looking directly at the mech who stared just as much back. “If that was your go as a pick-up line, I have to admit it wasn’t very effective.” Blurr held his smile when he downed the contents of the glass. His speech was slowing to what others would consider a “normal” pace, which meant the drinks were doing their job.

“It wasn’t intended to be.”

It took nearly all night to form that smile and suddenly, within the span of a single response, Blurr was frowning. Well, damn.

“You know, I came here to escape the woes of the workday and enjoy the drinks, music, dance, and company. Don’t make me give this place a bad rating.” Out of spite Blurr downed the second engex. Now all he had to do was wait for those drinks to kick in and give him the sizzling circuitry surges he needed right then, to pull him further out of reality.

“Not that uncommon of a story in this establishment.” Damn it, is he still talking with that obnoxious sense and unreasonably attractive accent?

“Yeah?” Blurr was tapping his helm, almost demanding the drinks to start kicking in. “A regular I assume?”

“I have frequented this place,” the violet and black mech stated. “Though I wouldn’t begin to title myself as such. It is an idealistic remedy to ease the stresses of duties away.” The light from his optic moved toward the empty glasses near Blurr’s arm, the ones currently being taken away by the bartender. “Usually under modest temperance.”

Blurr huffed. He could sense his processors clogging with the rhythmic surges of the effects from the engex, the pulsing beats reverberating around, and that cycling warframe’s voice. He wanted a glitching high, not a fragging motherboardache.

“You don’t seem like the type of mech to enjoy these _gatherings_.” He really didn’t, and by the looks of his reserve from the floor, Blurr could only determine this ‘bot was there to reluctantly observe, not necessarily partake.

“Oh?” His body leaned, angling towards Blurr to indicate higher framed attention. It really was something else to be underneath the glow of that optic. “And what does my ‘type of mech’ seem to be?”

Blinking, Blurr leaned up in his seat. Was he being challenged? Glaring back, Blurr crossed his arms and met that challenge.

“Firstly, we’ll-talk-about-your-form, given-that-it’s-a-warframe-only-determines-the-importance-placed-on-your-role-in-society. Warframes-are-given-high-profile-jobs, and-I-expect-no-less-from-an-individual-such-as-yourself. Even-if-I-had-firsthand-doubts, the-observations-in-the-way-you-hold-yourself-as-well-as-the-patterns-of-your-vocal-frequencies-further-provide-proof-of-your-elite-standing. My-guess-is-that-you-have-an-office-somewhere-near-the-Grand-Imperium, likely-on-a-level-where-you-have-the-perfect-view-of-CyberSky, and-it-was-only-by-these-side-glances-that-spurred-you-to-investigate-the-atmosphere-and-the-crowds-it-attracted.”

The silence made Blurr smile. He knew what mannerisms to look for and which signs equated into certain attributes. He was always a mech good at his job, and even under the sway of energon amplifiers and hypnotic music he was able to perform just as efficiently. Longarm would be proud of him.

Damn it . . .

Did he really just think about Longarm?

Damn it.

“An intelligence officer.” The large mech looked more fascinated than taken aback. He shifted ever so slightly, arm leaning against the bar as he subtly leaned closer. “I am very impressed. Might I have a go?”

Blurr shrugged, and with a nod of his helm the mech next to him leaned in just a fraction closer.

“You say you’re here for a good time, but let’s be honest, you’re a very good liar though not when it involves personal matters. This is your second time visiting, no, first. You were undecided before but the stresses of your daily life urged you into the arms of nightlife entertainment. It’s working, but not as well as you want. Your frame leaves enough hints to your speed, a factor which no doubt landed you a prominent occupation among the Elite Guard. You are very good at your job, the aspect of which I had the pleasure of experiencing just a moment ago. But it’s not enough anymore, is it? Even the best of the best tire out, though I’m not entirely sure it’s over anything superficial. There’s something eating at your core processor like cosmic rust. It’s enough to make you want to forget all about it, but you can’t, can you?”

Blurr wanted to blink out of his stupor, but he couldn’t. He just stared, dumbfounded and absolutely struck with . . . the surprise of it all. How could he know so much— _that_ much—by just looking at him? For a brief moment Blurr wondered if this mech belonged to another intel division, but, no, Blurr would have known about him. A ‘bot with that high of intellect doesn’t go unnoticed for long, especially by Intelligence.

Optics narrowed. “From that assessment I can only conclude you’ve had intelligence training or happen to hail from another division.” Damn, Blurr’s speech was slowing again.

Blurr finally blinked when a clawed hand hung out before him. “Shockwave.” Blurr had to blink again to give the data running through his processor enough time to realize he was being given a designation.

“Blurr.” His hand dwarfed in Shockwave’s grip, but the blue mech made sure to keep his strength in the shake and ignore the obvious size difference.

“What are you here to forget, Blurr?” Shockwave shifted again, turning until he was facing the bar, a glance and hand motioned the bartender to silently prepare him an order. When his helm turned back to Blurr, that glowing optic peered into him. “You don’t have to tell me, but I will find out by the end of the night.”

Wary, in a sense, but Blurr held no power over that. The mech proved his intelligence earlier and Blurr didn’t have it in him to fight anymore. Shifting in his seat, he too faced the bar, contemplating on whether or not he should put in another order. His systems were already singing with the two previous engex.

“I’m here to just forget.” Blurr sighed, looking at the drink placed down in front of Shockwave. He really wanted to order another, but began gaining doubts about its effectiveness in his current state.

“A place, an event, or a name, I wonder.” Shockwave was holding the drink between his claws, tilting it until the contents swished and swirled.

Blurr felt his form slumping, that sinking feeling returning despite the buzz humming inside his helm. Primus, he knew going to the club was a bad idea. With a quick glance back toward the floor, Blurr saw no signs of Rodimus nor the others, likely all too caught up in their pleasure to remember his moping aft.

A place? Yes, the Elite Guard HQ patio where he first met his new boss. An event? Yes, the moment at the gala when his boss for over sixty stellar cycles had been toasting to his hardworking team, taking the time to even mention every employee by name. A name? Longarm Prime.

That was when a pitiful chuckle rolled out of Blurr’s mouth. Shaking his helm, Blurr’s form shifted further into himself. “A little bit of all three,” he said when he felt that recognizable ache shutter from his spark chamber.

“Well then, perhaps you’ll need this after all.” Blurr felt a tap against his arm plating and when he turned his gaze he noticed Shockwave had slid his drink over toward him. With a motion he offered. “Just tell me what you require and I’ll oblige in helping you forget your woes this evening.”

Blurr’s smile returned without him realizing it. And as soon as he picked up the drink, tipping it in signal, he hadn’t realized he was leaning over toward the other either. “I could use a drinking partner.”

“It shall be done.” Shockwave motioned to the bartender and as soon as he was given his order the two clapped glasses and talked away the evening. When words slurred and pitches became guttural, it was the lull of the musical beats that lured Blurr back out onto the floor.

With too much engex in his system and the pleasing melodies pulsing around him, Blurr found himself losing himself all over again. He was aware of the scarlet light watching him as he swayed his body, melding into the mass of other raving frames for only a moment. He wasn’t quite aware of his own hands beckoning, optics bright and suggestive. By the time large clawed servos glided along his body and a frame pulled him flush from behind, Blurr was certain he had lost even his own identity to the drink, the music, and that grinding field right behind him.

He doesn’t recall ever bumping into Rodimus again that evening, or the sound of old friends calling out to him. Blurr doesn’t even quite remember leaving the building, much less driving anywhere. But he must have at one point because as soon as his backside slammed down against a sizable berth, he realized his surroundings weren’t at all where he had last blinked. And then in another blink, there was a form over him; that was when Blurr remembered what he was doing there.

Having already tried before, Blurr knew he couldn’t form any proper words in the state he was in now, so he resorted to pitching moans and rumbling groans. Melting into the frame over him, Blurr was just as quick to keep those hands on him as they reached down, tracing seams with claws that dragged, pressing just enough to tease a scratch.

“Oooh!” Blurr arched, deliberately pushing his sensitive chassis against wandering digits. His own hands were out, grabbing a hold of arms, of servos to guide them where he wanted them to touch and ignite. And Shockwave was such a good follower, even the signals Blurr hadn’t managed to properly communicate were understood, and the ‘bot touched him in all the right places.

With Shockwave rubbing his large digits between his thighs, Blurr felt his entire frame heat until it collected into an almost searing pain around his interface paneling. His sounds were shameless, bouncing off the walls of one expensive rent-room, or was this Shockwave’s actual berthroom? The wonder over the details were lost the moment too-knowing digits pressed and rubbed against the right spot, and the next thing Blurr realized was his valve paneling sliding open.

Legs spread wider, and Blurr’s hand tugged on digits, guiding them toward his moist entrance. Bright optics looked up and basked in the red light of that peering optic. Primus, just being beneath the mech’s large frame turned the speedster on like nothing else. His past interface escapades hadn’t resulted in any partner near to the size of Shockwave. There was one warframe Blurr had gotten frisky with, but nothing more resulted from their encounter, not like this.

There was slight worry over the extreme difference of their sizes, but that worry existed in the back of his CPU, cut off from any reason processor due to engex surges pumping through his systems, making him tremble and shake and reach out and cling. His partner was extremely intuitive; despite Blurr’s seemingly random touches and incoherent grunts and groans, Shockwave understood and followed along the desires Blurr was so desperately seeking.

Helm tossed back and mouth parted wide, Blurr’s hand moved along Shockwave’s claw, even as it penetrated him. It was the motion of Blurr’s grasp that guided it to the right depth and ideal tempo of movement.

“Right-there-right-there-right-there!” Blurr choked on the pleasure, and soon enough that digit moved on its own accord, pressing in further despite Blurr’s aimlessly guiding hand. He hitched, bucking as he was spread. There really wasn’t any pain and Blurr could only come undone from the constant barrage of sheer sensory relief.

“Gorgeous.” Blurr shivered at Shockwave’s deeper pitches. That accent was one of the sole reasons he was so well lubricated. A brief memory of wandering hands on the dance floor made Blurr recollect the time his lubricating system clicked on, especially when that tall mech leaned down, rubbing his helm against Blurr’s audio receptors and saying, “Let’s find a more private atmosphere to finish this dance, my dear.” Blurr could even still feel the tug the violet mech had given as he dragged him off of the floor and out of the club.

Moving his hips, Blurr met Shockwave’s thrusting digit in perfect timing. It was just like that that Blurr clung to Shockwave’s other hand as it caressed his pleasure-riddled face. With Shockwave above him, completely covering him, moving inside him, it was so easy to forget his woes, and the one centered around said woes. If only for a little while, Blurr welcomed the distraction.

“Oh! Oooh!” Blurr’s optics widened at the feel of a second digit sliding up alongside the other. Blurr was impressed, even the larger mech’s claws were a width and length, and yet with each roll and thrust, he was surprising Blurr by fitting them in deeper.

The rising scent of fluids permeated into the space around. Blurr’s thighs were a mess, as was the berth underneath, and Shockwave’s palm was completely soaked. This only seemed to elicit a reaction out of his partner. Blurr could see the way Shockwave’s frame rattled in just the slightest of ways that urged him to press his digits deeper as if he wanted to see Blurr scream.

“What was their name?”

Blurr faded away only slightly from his euphoric daze. Focusing, he noticed Shockwave’s gaze intently watching the way his fingers disappeared into the stretching valve. When that gaze moved and looked into Blurr’s flickering optics, it made the small mech wonder how the other could keep so much control in that moment.

“I told you I’d find out by the end of the evening.” Blurr hitched again, thighs shaking when those two digits rocked back and then slid in further than before. Primus, were they really mostly inside him? “There was a name you were trying to forget. What was their name?”

Shaking, Blurr took to glaring back. Leaning up, Blurr was arched on his side, knees bent and thighs spread while large digits moved inside him. “And you told me you’d help me forget.” Reaching out, Blurr ran his hand along the one moving between his legs. “So help me.”

There was a short pause that tormented Blurr to the point he almost mewled for the other to carry on, but as soon as Shockwave moved past that speedbump he pressed out his field, rubbing Blurr’s in the best of ways while he picked up the pace of his moving fingers. That was when Blurr let out the louder sounds he was certain Shockwave had been waiting to hear.

The overload that he met by the end of those ministrations rocked Blurr’s body into minor seizures. For being simply fingered, that had to be one of the best overloads he’s had in a while. However, Blurr was more than certain initial attraction as well as the size of those digits helped bring him into this relieving bliss.

But the engex in his system didn’t let Blurr settle for too long before amped surges rolled through his frame, shaking him back into desire. That was when he pulled away, reluctantly moving himself away from those embedded digits to press himself closer, to run his hands down dark plating and tap against sensitive seams. Shockwave was leaned back, sitting on his knee rotators as Blurr nestled himself in his lap, grinding against him, rubbing chassis and palms all over as his lubricant dripped further onto the larger mech’s thighs.

“I think it’s only fair if you get a turn.” Blurr’s pitch was slower again, low as he rubbed his lips across shuddering seams.

Large hands came over him, for a moment, Blurr thought he was to be pulled off and away. “I am content just to see you to your end.” Well, that certainly was kind of Shockwave, but Blurr never let himself be said to leave his berth partner wanting.

“Oh? Are you really?” The size of Blurr’s digits easily fit into a few joint patches, fingering cables and wiring only to watch ligaments tremble. “That might not be a lie, but it’s not necessarily the whole truth either.” Rubbing along chassis plating made them twitch and shift, and as soon as one of Blurr’s hands reached down, gliding over pelvic paneling, there was a buck. “You want to pleasure me, but you’re completely deliriously hot to the notion of me pleasuring you.” Blurr’s smile remained. Rolling hips lathered Shockwave’s pelvic plating with lubrication and warmth, pushing for a reaction. “Why don’t you let me?”

That shuddering groan that sounded from the larger mech rolled a rush of lubrication out of Blurr, and damn it all to the pits did Blurr want something inside him again. It was from his insistent gyrations that he caught the sound of interface paneling clicking open, and right then he sucked in a gasp as a thick rod-like appendage brushed in-between his legs. Looking down Blurr took in the sheer size of his berthmate’s spike. Damn, did it make Blurr ache in all the right and wrong ways.

Large hands fell on him again, digits wrapping around him to keep Blurr there, seated, whilst larger hips bucked, taking delight in the way the large spike slid between his small legs and rubbed against his wet valve. The sensation trilled Blurr and he could only shiver and shake as he was held still and used for needed friction. Optics met and even with the unordinary helm, Blurr could see the desire swirling inside that round red sphere.

“Still want to be the one servicing me, Blurr?” There was a tone of a smile in that frequency, and the lighting of that rouge optic only seemed to sizzle Blurr more. And so he met him tit for tat.

Further balancing himself, Blurr placed a steady hand against Shockwave’s chassis, while his other reached down, rubbing along that hot spike. When Blurr moved himself across it, rubbing his moist valve along its topside, the vibrations felt that made him preen were certainly coming from the larger. Moans and groans melted into the other, and soon enough Blurr felt the stimulation mounting for another overload. But, he wasn’t quite done with Shockwave yet.

When Blurr shifted, moving away from Shockwave’s bucking hips and erect spike, the larger stilled his tremors, looking at him curiously and a little more with heated dismay. It was with a smile that Blurr assured him he wasn’t abandoning their tryst, as well as his groping hands and pressing lips.

“Ahh.” Shockwave’s sighing moan thrilled the blue speedster. More so the aspect of the larger’s still motions as Blurr moved his mouth around the tip of his spike.

Blurr licked, nipped, and suckled his way down, paying exceeding attention to the leftover slick he rubbed against it. Even as he came to lap at the substance his own body had trailed behind, the feel of vibrations, of heating plates only encouraged Blurr to continue and understand just how well he was doing. A single glance up and Burr could see Shockwave shaking his helm, his optic flickering from the pleasure pressurizing every sensor inside him.

Blurr continued mouthing the large spike, becoming familiar with its shape, its coloring, its ridges. As soon as the plating became too much for Blurr’s lips to handle, he decided to meet that fire with another fire. Mounting again, Blurr wrapped his legs around the appendage, rolling his pelvic plates and letting it feel the heat between his own thighs.

The combination of their temperatures only mixed and melded, seeping up into Blurr’s own core until he could feel his entire frame wrack with heated pleasure. Shockwave’s hands came around him the moment those pelvic plates moved. Blurr’s backside was pressed against the larger’s chassis, feeling only the rumbles of guttural groans while they moved against each other and crashed their fields into each other.

During his next overload, Blurr bit into one of Shockwave’s clinging claws, a muffled shout reverberated off of the plating just as Shockwave’s louder moan sounded the end of his own standoff. Feeling the larger mech ejaculate between his thighs did little to cool the blue mech off. And soon enough, the ache in his valve began to overwhelm him. Again.

Blurr had to intake too much engex didn’t he?

He had to sit there for a moment and attempt to get his systems back under control. The mess between his thighs and on Shockwave’s spike should be enough to sedate the both of them. As he leaned against the frame seated behind him, Blurr felt the content in the larger mech’s posture. The arms wrapped around him were weighted, lax. But there Blurr was, sitting with desire still coursing through him and a pulsing in his empty valve.

Moving, Blurr escaped the arms around him and crawled forward, ensuring that he gave Shockwave’s spike a suggestive brush as he situated himself on the berth, arms and knees shifting in more than a blatant invitation. Twisting his helm, Blurr nodded and gave a shake of his pelvic structure.

“We won’t know if we don’t try.” He sighed, relaxed but needy. Blurr could see the hesitation in Shockwave’s features despite his lack of expression. He could also see his desire and the longing to connect their frames.

There was a smile on Blurr’s lip plates when he watched the mech move, watched as he crawled closer. But it all vanished when he saw Shockwave reach out to press his claws between his legs. In a hurry, Blurr angled himself, twisting only for a moment to reach back and slap the claws away.

“No, I-want-your-spike!” A rush ran through him, enough to kick in his speed for a moment, enough to help him hold onto that glare and allure.

The hesitation lingered, but the longer Shockwave stared at that waiting, dripping, valve the further said hesitation crumbled. Blurr made noises of approval when two long arms moved, hands laying down near beside his shoulders. He shuddered further at that nudge against his valve.

Feeling Shockwave’s spike enter him reminded the blue mech of his claws, the two that had given him relief. Though, it was obvious the larger mech’s spike was not as similar to his digits as Blurr related, that understanding was instilled when the thicker circumference of the appendage caught against the current limit of Blurr’s valve membrane. The hitched moan that followed that point as Blurr hung his helm wasn’t necessarily from sheer pleasure, and not necessarily from absolute pain either.

“Keep. Going.” Blurr shook his helm, denta grinding together even as patches from the taught connection surged through Blurr’s much smaller frame with signals of pain. It was through this struggle that Blurr felt a helm rub against his shoulder strut. With his optics open he could see his shadow from the glow of Shockwave’s red optic.

“Are you sure? I can stop if you want.” As if he were trying to point out Blurr’s obvious discomfort he rolls his hips, the tug pulling Blurr’s frame along with the gyration.

Venting, Blurr shook his helm again, turning his optics to look back at his berthmate. There was a smile on his face again. “I’m trying to forget a mech, what better way than on your colossal spike?”

Shockwave’s pause was short, spurred on by Blurr’s words. His push forward made Blurr bite back a yelp and any further incriminating sounds that leaned toward the pitches of pain. Blurr was surprised, as well as relieved, when he felt further sections of the spike slip into him, he really didn’t believe it would fit inside him, not all of it at least, but the further stretch was surprising even to himself, his valve was taking it in stride.

In the end, Blurr still wasn’t sure if he had managed to swallow it all, but it certainly felt like he could. He was so full he didn’t think he’d be able to move, and with the way his walls hugged the spike, he doubted Shockwave had much leeway to move either. It was from that positon that he began to feel the vibrations from the spike inside him, as well as the ones rattling the form overtop him.

“Primus . . .” Shockwave’s groaning moan pulled one from Blurr, and he couldn’t help but shake his hips, wanting to see how it felt just to move against him. “You feel exactly as I expected you to.”

There was an urge to respond to those comments, but Blurr found it increasingly difficult to focus on forming coherent words along with maintaining his own trembling frame and peaking overload. Instead he let out a needy moan and pushed back. Oh, Primus, that felt so damn good. The moment Blurr did it again, he was met with Shockwave’s own movement.

Pelvic plating rolled, meeting in wet collisions, Blurr could feel his lubrication dripping down his thighs, coating Shockwave’s spike enough for fluid movement. It didn’t take long at all for their movement to pick up.

“Uh! Yes-yes-yes-yes!” The pain was obviously still there, but the cusp of it thrilled Blurr’s senses, turning it all into pleasure. It was this predicament that moved Blurr back as soon as Shockwave rocked forward, and whenever the pace picked up, Blurr eagerly met it with just as much vigor.

The feel of Shockwave shifting, of his frame leaning away only to settle on his knee rotators and take Blurr by the hips, pulling him into him made the small blue mech flinch, but he situated himself easily and let the other know of his delight in the faster pace. The position, the size difference, and the experience of it all built up something inside Blurr that made him shake. Primus, he was ready for this upcoming overload.

Their partnered chase pulled at Blurr’s senses just the way he wanted it to, pulling him further into his processor and imagination, most of which involved a smaller frame, with a thick build and kind hands, and smiling lip plates. Blurr wondered what his spike would feel like inside him, what his own body would do when tread and digit rubbed against his slimmer build. He wondered how different he would be from Shockwave.

“Nnn, Longarm . . .” Blurr leaned down, laying his chassis and helm against the berth, optics closed to just accept and imagine. There was a smile on his lip plates, all of it disappeared the moment he felt his interface partner pull away completely; frame away and spike out.

Optics onlined not a moment later. Blurr’s next intention was to turn and assess the sudden problem, but large hands took hold of him first and the next thing he knew was that his backside was being slammed against the berth, his entire frame frontal now, looking up into heated red. Those same claws holding him took hold of his jaw strapping, tugging to make him look.

“Not tonight,” Shockwave said through strained vocals still laced with the stress of interface. Blurr could even still feel the pleasurable tremors vibrating the warframe’s structure. “No other names right here, expect my own. It looks like I’ll have to teach you that.”

Blurr hadn’t been as prepared for the large spike’s reentry, but luckily his body was. Noted, there was a minor alert to the received pain as the spike’s very tip bumped against his gestational tank. Damn, he can’t remember the last mech he was with who actually managed to reach that chamber.

Curiosity was pushed aside when Shockwave took control and flattened his body beneath his own, large pelvic plating keeping Blurr’s legs spread wide and held as he moved against him quick and deep. Blurr tried to wrap his legs around the mech, but found his frame completely incapacitated, whether it was by Shockwave’s much larger and heavier structure, or from that paralyzing light shining down from the mech’s round and wide optic. And so Blurr settled in and let those waves come over him. With consent he drowned in it all.

“Shockwave! Shockwave-Shockwave-Shockwave!!” Blurr’s optics were wide, bright as his overload crashed around him, imploding his senses that shook him and made his valve clamp on the large appendage inside him, not that that at all deterred Shockwave’s continual movement.

Blurr was absolutely spent and limp the moment Shockwave tensed over him, and with one final thrust he filled him with transfluid to the point he spilled out around him. The moan was Blurr’s, or was it Shockwave’s? It didn’t matter. Both were sated, both were ready for recharge.

Blurr hadn’t remembered much else except for the wonderful release inside the darkness following. Blurr thinks he dreamed of Longarm Prime; he thinks he heard him talking to him, thinks he felt him rub his digits down his face plating, thinks he felt those strong arms wrap around him and hold him close to his chassis. But the moment Blurr onlined from his recharge, he knows it was all a dream.

His helm is against a large chassis of violet hue with pulsing red lighting. Long arms are wrapped around Blurr’s frame with a claw subtly rubbing against his faceplate. Looking up, Blurr sees the peaceful face of his berthmate. He looked to be recharging.

“A late recharger, I wouldn’t have guessed.” That red optic shined, turning now upon Blurr.

Snickering, Blurr shook his helm and then moved, pushing himself away from the warm chassis. With another twist, those arms around him loosened to let the speedster know he was free to untangle himself. “You didn’t have to stay.” Rubbing at his face, Blurr finally got the chance to look around the quarters. It definitely was a well-to-do room, one Blurr assumed was likely Shockwave’s own, and not some high-end rent-room.

So Blurr’s assumption about Shockwave’s positon was likely right.

“I wanted to.” Blurr felt that same caress against his cheek as Shockwave reached out and ran his claw down. It was so strange how gentle a warframe could be, especially after their rough night. “I’m not the type to run off from my berthmates, and I believe you aren’t that type either.”

Shockwave may be good at reading, but there were some things Blurr kept well-hidden. Like the times, the many times, he had ran. And if he hadn’t onlined to a tight embrace, he certainly would have done just that.

A glance at his internal clock alerted Blurr to the new day, and the reminder of his pending work. “Primus!” He gasped and quickly tumbled out of the berth. “You-should-have-woken-me-earlier!”

“Have somewhere to be, Blurr?” Shockwave simply lounged on the berth, uncaring for even the leftover mess across his thighs and crotch. More than anything he looked amused as the blue mech dashed around the room for cleaners.

“Work,” Blurr replied, trying to ignore Shockwave’s lackluster attitude. He was in need of a shower, but that would take too long, and so he was more than grateful for some simple handheld cleaner that would wipe away the mess between his thighs. “Don’t-you-have-it-too?”

“Naturally,” Shockwave replied. “Though I have the leisure of going whenever I please.”

“Must-be-nice.” Blurr finally did what he could. Satisfied with the result he dashed to the door.

“Was I not good enough to garner a farewell kiss?” Blurr stopped as soon as his hand hovered over the entrance/exit paneling. He turned, Shockwave didn’t look the least bit distressed or upset over his sudden departure. His amusement was evident in his tone.

With half a processor to just leave and the other half worrying over his late arrival at work, Blurr certainly didn’t have any openings to fit in a good-bye kiss for his one-night-stand. But something tugged him to do just that. Perhaps it was his aching valve that singed every now and then from the memory of being so perfectly used, or perhaps it was his own hate for his cowardice. Whatever it was had the speedster back in the berth, pressing against the large mech who was seated upright, looking down at him expectantly.

This was all rather silly given the fact of Shockwave’s lack of a facial orifice, but Blurr humored him, leaning up and pressing his lip plates to that smooth facial structure, right underneath that glowing optic. Just as he was about to thank the mech for a good time he started when he felt a hand wind around him, Shockwave’s other moved between his thighs. Just as nimble claws rubbed against his interface paneling and Blurr was getting ready to slam his pedes against the mech’s chassis, the click of a closing paneling turned Blurr’s thoughts away from a struggle. After that, Shockwave withdrew altogether.

There was a rumbling chuckle vibrating out his chassis as he placed Blurr back down on his pedes. “You left your valve paneling open all night. I didn’t want you to walk out of here like that.”

Blurr could feel his facial plating heat, not only from his embarrassment, but likely from his activated lubrication cycle that began the moment Shockwave pushed his fingers between his thighs in the attempt to close his open paneling. And he’d just cleaned up too.

Well, slag it, what’s wrong with one late day?

Blurr slid his arms around the larger mech’s neck at the same time he slid his valve paneling open. Lips pressed once again to facial plates, and lubrication dripped down spreading thighs, enticing those digits back. Bodies shifted and Blurr was pressed against the berth again with Shockwave over him and inside him.

Their interface was just as heated and passionate as the previous night. And there was no less than four overloads before the two managed to pull themselves away from each other and toward their respective duties. Blurr parted with absolute satisfaction and more than enough ache in his valve to pull his processor away from the ache inside his spark chamber.

The race to work after a professional clean had been Blurr’s finest timing. He was late, and despite his lack of care when he was in the arms of Shockwave, it all rattled his sensors the moment he stepped into the office. He did his best to avoid curious coworker optics as well as swat the barrage of Rodimus messages he just noticed clogging his audial files. He sat himself at his station and ignored everything else around him, trying to recall the pleasantries of his wiles the previous day, but with his station at an easy location to take in the visual of his boss’ office, Blurr could only worry himself to pieces with fear of Longarm Prime’s repercussions for his tardiness.

The worry he fed really didn’t come into play until much later in the day, which happened to be when the clock dictated he hand in his reports.

Longarm Prime had raised a brow plate when he picked up the four files. And those blue optics looking at Blurr only made the mech want to quake at the knee joints. It wasn’t visible, but Blurr could just feel the disappointment.

“Only four?” Longarm questioned after giving the agent a once-over. When he glanced at the clock he nodded. “At this cycle your usual count is eleven or higher.”

On instinct, Blurr straightened, giving a salute. “I-apologize-sir! I-regret-to-announce-my-evening-endeavors-improperly-occupied-my-time-to-the-point-of-inadequacy. I-came-in-passed-scheduled-time-and-haven’t-managed-to-catch-up-to-my-count. I-understand-your-disappointment-and-I-accept-full-responsibility-for-my-lacking-actions.”

“You’re not in trouble, Agent Blurr.” Longarm’s chuckle more than threw the blue mech off. “Every ‘bot reaches their limit sooner or later until the need to find a way to unwind propels them to seek out said resolution. I too am not immune to this, and I don’t expect you to be either. However, I would kindly ask you stay until you can manage your usual quota.”

Despite the click of heel plating, and the steady salute, and the nod and verbal assurance, when Blurr left his employer’s office that ache in his spark chamber came to the forefront of his mainframe, reminding him of his crippling feelings. Primus, he had it bad, _bad_ -bad. The first work day Blurr was late and Longarm Prime understood and swiped away the offense. Of course he would.

It was that feeling that further impaired his remaining work. Soon enough Blurr found himself one of the last at the office. Even long after his final file was typed and logged, he persisted, an excuse and reason to make up for the day’s mistakes.

“Agent Blurr?” There stood Longarm Prime, the usual amount of mess clutched in his arms, never once minimizing. “You were scheduled to clock out cycles ago.”

Blurr turned in his chair, looking up at the worry-riddled-face of his boss. “I-wanted-to-stay. I-figured-I’d-catch-up-and-perhaps-get-a-head-start-for-tomorrow’s-assignments.”

Longarm sighed, shifting his own workload. “You don’t have to, Blurr. You’ve done more than your share today.”

“Pardon-me-for-saying, but-so-have-you, sir.” Blurr nodded toward the pile in Longarm’s embrace. “I-know-you-usually-work-later-to-finish-necessary-files, but-even-this-is-late-for-you. Sir.”

Venting, Longarm Prime offered a submitting smile and nodded. Shifting, he laid down the amount in his arms onto a desk next to Blurr’s. He looked at the pile with disdain, but there still resided that longing in his features to get them done.

“I too came in late today,” he admitted, looking toward Blurr with a short chortle. “Admittingly, I just didn’t want to come into work.”

Blurr offered a laugh in return. “No-one-would-blame-you-for-that-stance. Your-job’s-packed-with-more-stress-than-even-field-operatives.”

The way Longarm smiled at Blurr made the blue mech want to melt away. Primus, that face was just so cyberangelic. “I’d beg to differ, actually,” he said, his tone laced with perfect comradery. “I’m not afraid to admit how much more important your, and the other agents’, jobs are compared to my own. I only relay logged statistics and reconnaissance files to the governmental bodies, but it’s you, Blurr, you and the others who actually go out and risk your well-being to provide valuable intel for this planet.”

The flattery, oh, damn, the flattery!

“I, uh,” Blurr paused for only a short moment to right the words jumbled in his CPU. “I-know-you’ve-heard-this-before, but-it-really-is-a-pleasure-working-for-you. You-do-so-much-for-us-I-think-it’s-only-fair-you-let-us-do-some-things-for-you.” Standing, Blurr took up a portion of the pile of datapads. His smile and stance ensured his boss he wouldn’t be swayed from his newly decided tasks.

Longarm looked ready to deject, but it took only a moment later for his expression to surrender. “If you so insist.”

The work was the pits, really, but all the annoyance of occupational duties subsided in the light of his companion. Being near Longarm, conversing with him, and working alongside him to get his work done was something Blurr relished. Passing datapads, requesting override clearances on subjects, signing off in proxy, it all thrilled Blurr to be this—dare he say—personal with the Prime. If he could, Blurr wouldn’t hesitate to do all of this again.

Blurr didn’t even want to look at the clock when he sat the last of the datapads down on an organized rack. It was late, but that fact was meaningless to him at the moment. Not when he was staring at his boss who was seated at his desk, looking at the clean surface of the piece of furnish with sighing relief.

“I can’t begin to express my gratitude, Blurr.” Oh, Blurr loved it when Longarm dropped the “Agent” title. “I would have likely been here until morning if not for your help.”

Turning around to face him, Blurr offered his best smile. Only for Longarm. “It-was-no-trouble-at-all, sir. At-least-now-you-can-get-a-proper-night’s-recharge.”

Longarm hummed, leaning back in his seat, his hand rubbing at his neck cabling. “What I need is a proper unwind. Perhaps I should call in a sick day to make an appointment with my chiropractor.” He smiled, shaking his helm with a chuckle. “However, knowing this workspace, I’ll just throw joints out again from the piles of workload I’ll find when I come back.”

“I-say-take-the-sick-day.” Blurr did it now. He finally forced himself to dart forward, reach out, and lay his hands on the Prime. Only on his shoulder struts in the manner of friendly comfort, but still. “If-there’s-anybot-on-Cybertron-that-deserves-some-time-to-drive-to-the-relaxation-parlor, it’s-you. I-promise-me-and-Cliffjumper-will-keep-everything-in-order-for-you.”

When Blurr’s digits moved, pressing and then patting, Longarm didn’t move away. For a moment he seemed tense, but his form quickly slunk further back into the chair and he allowed Blurr to further his ministrations. This all did nothing but thrill the speedster.

“I might just hold you to that.” Longarm let out a sigh, tilting his helm slightly for Blurr’s fingers to rub at cramped gears there.

Blurr was no massage specialist, but he knew which cables loosened when touched, enabling better coolant flow for leveled attitudes. However, it was when Blurr’s digits rub over jutting jaw strappings that he felt the Prime reach up and take hold of his hand. Frozen, Blurr assumed he did something wrong and began inwardly kicking himself for an overstepped boundary, but that thought processing vanished the moment he felt lip plates flutter across his knuckle gears.

Longarm Prime had just kissed his hand.

Further frozen, Blurr didn’t quite know what to do, or how he should react. His hand was still within the firm grip of the Prime’s, still pressed against that mouth. Holy slag.

Suddenly, Longarm started and pulled his hand away, letting go altogether. “I’m terribly sorry, Agent Blurr.” He even shifted himself a little away, turning in his chair to look back at Blurr. He looked apologetic, and quite tired. “It wasn’t my intention to . . .” His frustration was evident too. “I’ve overworked myself so much that I forgot myself.”

Wait, so was all of that intentional? Was Longarm Prime actually coming onto Blurr? Was that desire? A desire for Blurr? Blurr?

Blurr stood still, speechless, motionless. Staring, he could see Longarm’s unease. He could see his regret. No. No, he didn’t want him to feel that.

Moving, Blurr startled not only himself, but his very boss as he slid one leg on either side of Longarm’s. Straddling him, Blurr then moved his arms around the mech’s short neck section. He looked into unsure blue optics, and forced himself to remain resolute so that they didn’t waver.

“Then why don’t we make you continue to forget yourself.” Speech slower, Blurr wasn’t brushing anything as accidental anymore. He was bare before the Prime, his boss, revealing his feelings, his desires, and his intentions. With as close as he was to Longarm, Blurr had a front row seat to the shifts in his optical paneling.

Longarm looked hesitant despite the touch from those oddly dubious hands of his gliding up along Blurr’s spinal structure. “We shouldn’t. This is against code, Agent Blurr.”

“Is it? I can’t seem to remember.” Leaning forward, Blurr pushed his lips against Longarm’s closed mouth.

Just touching Longarm’s lips set Blurr on fire. The worries of witnessed rejection, of the consequences of this behavior were sidestepped the moment he felt Longarm Prime kiss back. And there was nothing subtle about his returning affection; Longarm’s kisses were hard and demanding. All too soon Blurr’s lips were clamped by denta and his orifice crowded with the other mech’s glossa.

There was a moment when Blurr believed this was all likely a dream conjured by the longing of his spark and vivid imagination of his running central processor, but those hands groping his aft, those lips melding against his own, and that glossa swirling around his intake, it was all too real to ignore. Not that Blurr wanted to in the slightest. No, he pushed back just as much with his own glossa doing battle with Longarm’s, his own hands reaching out to explore plating and seams he had always wished to. With Longarm revealing his obvious desires, Blurr wanted to make sure his were just as open.

Rolling his pelvic structure into Longarm’s groin elicited a groan, and as it vibrated through Blurr’s mouth, the mech couldn’t help but move his hands down further, running along his boss’s sturdy and stocky form until they settled on intimate plating and simply rubbed. The way Longarm trembled underneath Blurr’s touch was more than the blue mech could ask for, his smile wide and pleasant and encouraging.

“Blurr.” The way Longarm sighed Blurr’s named thrilled him to the ends of Cybertron and back.

More than encouraged and motivated, Blurr set his hands along interface paneling, rubbing his palm against heating plates, only then did he feel Longarm lean back, pulling his lips away from his own. Blurr onlined his optics. There was no room for worry when the look in the Prime’s optical paneling was bright, fervent, and intent.

With the sound of a click, Longarm’s spike pressurized, pushing against Blurr’s wandering hands. It certainly didn’t take long for the blue mech to wrap a servo around the rod, rubbing and stroking it and just memorizing the feel of it. Primus, he had Longarm’s spike in his servo, was every fantasy of his about to come to life that night?

Shifting back on Longarm’s thighs, only slightly, Blurr looked down, taking in the sight. Longarm was bigger than what he’d previously envisioned, not that he was disappointed. Thrilled, actually, and more than eager to rub his palms against the surface of the grayed appendage.

Thoughts of the spike going into his mouth, or his valve, started Blurr’s lubrication cycle. In succession his hips gyrated, rubbing hot plating against Longarm’s thighs as Blurr, himself, worked on the spike with anxious fingers. In time Blurr felt Longarm’s own rolls, bucking against him as he pleasured him.

Humming a moan, Blurr vocalized his approval of those groping hands kneading his aft, one in particular wiggled fingers between his thighs. There was an obvious want to run curious digits along interface seams, but with a shake, Blurr shifted again. This time he slid off of his boss, slinking down until he was on his knees, his helm level with the mech’s spike.

There was one silent shared look, before Blurr leaned in and covered the tip with his lips. A simple kiss at first before he descended, trailing lips along the underside. He continued until he reached the base and then ascended.

The tremors from Longarm’s frame was felt against Blurr’s lips, and with a look, Blurr gave the mech a reassuring smile before opening his mouth and taking the spike inside. He felt Longarm’s hands reach out and grasp his shoulder struts. He really wouldn’t mind if they clung to his helm, but as long as Longarm was comfortable, then so was he to continue.

For a ‘bot who took things fast, Blurr made absolute certain he took his time with this. Bobbing up and down in an easy rhythm, just so he could remember the feel of the spike in his mouth, stretching his orifice structure and running denta delicately along the edges. After logging his initial experience he picked up pace, moving until those subtle tremors became prominent, and that spike he was swallowing began to sear him from the inside out.

“Blurr, oh, Blurr.” Longarm’s moans and the way one of his hands came and pressed against Blurr’s helm spurred him to move faster

He could feel Longarm’s end approaching. The spike’s surface was hot against Blurr’s denta, twitching. And his boss’s subtle bucks weren’t so subtle anymore.

Excitement settled into Blurr, and he eagerly worked to bring Longarm into that overload, desiring to taste him and store that experience into his memory logs. However, just as Blurr approached that cusp he felt Longarm’s grasping hand on his helm instead pull him away, and as soon as that spike slid out of his mouth it erupted and transfluid splattered all over the speedster’s facial plates.

There was disappointment over not being able to initially swallow the ejaculation, but more than anything surprise, and as Blurr looked up toward Longarm he took in the sheer bliss on his features, and then that smile as he looked toward him.

“Apologies, I’ve wanted to do that for some time now.” There was little remorse laced within Longarm’s expression, before long, that smile sharpened and those optics shifted darker. The look of a satisfied predicon with his catch.

Taking his thumb, Blurr scooped some of the transfluid across his jaw strapping off and then shoved the digit into his mouth. He nodded, leaning closer. “And what else have you wanted to do?” His glossa darted out, licking up the mess just as plating beneath began shifting in delight again. It was only when he felt Longarm’s hand press against his cheek that he looked back up, and it was there in Longarm’s optics that he saw desire reinvigorate.

“I’ve always envisioned you’d look lovely riding my spike.” There was something heavy in Longarm’s vocals, desire was obvious, but something pitched his frequency to the point Blurr picked up accented words. They rang familiar, but the blue mech was too shaken, too shuddered with delight and the prospect of fulfilling his boss’s fantasies that he ignored the familiarity and instead returned to Longarm’s lap, grinding down against him and rolling hips against that still erect spike until he slid his valve panel open, letting the built up lubrication seep out of him and make a mess of them both.

“One day I shall have my taste of you.” Longarm’s fingers weren’t at all shy about the way they wiggled into Blurr’s valve, starting up a steady pumping pace before Blurr could dwell on the feel of them inside him. “But not today. I haven’t the patience for it.” Leaning forward, he took Blurr’s mouth, moving his glossa into his and tugging at lip plates. Blurr only had the chance to keen out a few moans before Longarm removed his fingers and then grasped his thighs, pulling him closer until they were aligned.

“Oooh!” Blurr’s helm fell back, frame completely arched, and his jaw hinges slacked. Feeling Longarm Prime press inside him almost had him overloading right then and there. How many stellar cycles had he fantasied this very moment? How many nights had he regretfully pleasured himself alone because of these bothersome aspirations?

It was hard to believe what was happening wasn’t a dream. Blurr swore it was, because there was no way his Longarm would look at him with dark optics, no way his Longarm would moan and say his name with such deep pitches, and certainly no way his Longarm Prime would ever want to touch him, much less stick his spike into him. Right?

Clinging, Blurr pushed their chassis’ together, his own helm pressed against Longarm’s in a tight embrace. Optics offline, and ligaments clutching, Blurr didn’t want to wake—not if this was all a dream.

“Don’t-be-a-dream, don’t-be-a-dream, don’t-be-a-dream.” At this point he might have been choking Longarm, but Blurr didn’t want to let go. He wanted to remain like that; holding onto the Prime with his spike wedged deep inside him, damn the instinctual urge to move.

It was the feel of kisses along his necking, his helm, and his face plates that pulled Blurr out of his hysteria. Loosening his grasp enabled Blurr to lean back slightly, allowed him to look at Longarm for just enough to see that reassuring smile before the Prime leaned in and kissed him tenderly. It was Longarm’s hands that grasped Blurr’s hips and moved him upward before guiding him downward. The speedster moaned into their mouths, and with further motion, Blurr was moving himself and kissing Longarm with everything he had and felt.

He couldn’t stop kissing him, just as much as he couldn’t stop moving, rolling his hips, taking Longarm into him with absolute ease and necessity. Grunts, groans, and moans were exchanged through their connected mouths. Hands grasped and clung as their fields melded and their bodies collided in the most intimate of ways.

“Longarm, oooh.” Blurr moved his mouth away, instead he ran his lips across the mech’s face and then down vertebrae cabling and toward shoulder struts. He just wanted to kiss him everywhere all at once, to run his hands and dig his fingers into every crevice. He wanted Longarm Prime to feel him just as much as he was feeling him.

Longarm, himself, wasn’t too unwilling to keep his hands to himself. Most of the time Blurr felt those fingers glide along his chassis as he rose and fell, particularly rubbing along the underside just as Blurr rolled his frame into him. And it made Blurr shiver to the point his walls tightened around Longarm’s spike, squeezing him into oblivion.

“Open your chassis for me.”

Blurr’s rushed processor slowed for a moment. Had he heard that right? Longarm wanted him to open his chassis, to show his spark chamber to him? Really?

His internal hesitation didn’t at all disrupt Blurr’s movement and within the next klik, Blurr was running his hands down his front, tapping only lightly before he commanded his chest to open. He shook in Longarm’s lap and couldn’t help but watch as Longarm’s optics fell upon the sight of his spark chamber.

“Open it.” Longarm’s command came out rough after he bucked up into Blurr’s downward thrust. The sound of fans whirling and metal scraping slick metal filled the space around them after that, even as Blurr moved downward and sat, opening his spark chamber to completely bare himself to Longarm.

Oh, Primus. Blurr was a shuddering mess.

A hand laid on Blurr’s hip, encouraging him to at least grind against him. Blurr did so, even as Longarm’s other hand rose and slid fingers along the inner shell of the chamber. It made Blurr gasp and his frame rattle harder. It felt so good, not only with Longarm’s playing fingers but just revealing it to the object of his affection. It nearly overwhelmed him.

“Beautiful.” Longarm’s vocals were whispers, words said to himself that Blurr could hear. And Blurr melted at the thought of Longarm considering his spark as something attractive.

Even as the pleasure mounted, Blurr never strayed far from the emotions dear to his spark, and the one that enacted them. Longarm’s fingers were very talented, rubbing at the most sensitive patches and when the presses bordered on pain he’d back away as if he knew how far he was able to go. His ministrations pushed Blurr toward his finale and the moment his body snapped tight he brought Longarm over that edge with him.

Longarm had pulled his hand away from Blurr’s spark and clung to his frame as he ejaculated into the tightening port. Blurr’s own overload nearly fried his processor. He was certain he cried out Longarm’s name, and possibly professed his love for him, but he wasn’t quite sure that message made its way through the static in his vocals.

The moment he came back into himself, Blurr realized Longarm hadn’t let go or even made to push him away. He simply sat with Blurr still situated in his lap, himself leaning back as his flickering optics looked toward the blue mech with satisfaction. There was even a glow of some sorts in the gem on his brow, it always mesmerized Blurr.

Blurr really was content to sit there; still speared on Longarm’s spike, gazing longingly into those affectionate optics; but someone had to move. Closing his chassis and pushing away, Longarm’s arms held up no fight as Blurr untangled them and then lifted himself off his spike.

“I should be going.” Blurr tried to clear his vocals of static, but segments lingered, as did bouts of slower speech. Just as soon as his panel slid shut an arm stretched and took a hold of the lithe mech, pulling him back.

“Blurr . . .” Wide optics gazed at Longarm as he spoke, words chopped, unsure of what to say. Something even Blurr understood. “I hope that this doesn’t frighten you off . . .”

“Frighten-me-off?” Blurr was suddenly shaking his helm. “No-no-no-no. Sir, I-enjoyed-this, more-than-you-can-ever-imagine.”

There was a smile on Longarm’s lips and all Blurr wanted to do in that moment was lean in and kiss them.

“I’m glad.” Primus, did Blurr ever mention Longarm had the most beautiful smile? “Then, if it’s not too much, I hope we might continue this relation of ours.

Blurr felt his spark fluctuate, and it was almost the only thing he could focus on in that moment. “I-I-would-like-that-very-much, sir!”

“Go home, get some rest. I’ll see you come morning.” Longarm nodded, bidding his farewell.

Blurr’s smile was broad and bright, and it only vanished once for a proper stand at attention and salute. His race home went by in such a rush that Blurr hadn’t really remembered falling down onto his berth or even tumbling into recharge. He did however remember onlining and prepping himself for one newly perceived workday, his intention fully clouded with the mission to stare at Longarm Prime the entire shift. And perhaps after his shift was done then . . .

The moment Blurr stepped into the workplace he immediately knew something was off. With some curious glances toward fellow coworkers, they offered him no insight to the sudden change in atmosphere. He, like the others, were simply herded into the meeting room where even the receptionists and tech support were invited to sit in.

When he saw Longarm enter the room with two other ‘bots, one very commonly known as Dai Atlas, and the other just so happened to be their old boss Highbrow, Blurr immediately knew this was no simple quartex sit-in report. With their high statuses, Blurr’s suspicions behind the true meaning of this meeting began to heighten.

Most optics turned toward the head of the department. And there Longarm Prime stood, that gentle smile of his captivating the crowd as it often did. Even Blurr could feel himself lean toward a subconscious relax despite the elite mechs in their presence. “At ease, everyone. I know I called you all here out of the sudden, but I assure you it is for matters I have been meaning to discuss with each and every single one of you.” Blurr felt his spark fluctuate when those all-inclusive blue optics lingered a little longer on him before moving on. “For over six hundred stellar cycles I have had the privilege of working with you, as your Prime and leader. It is without a doubt to say that I’ve grown attached to all of you and have more than a few fond memories of our time shared together. However, I regret to inform you that that will be coming to an end as of today.”

Blurr could have sworn his spark extinguished right then and there.

Even Longarm’s smile was fading. “Trust me, I’ve too come to struggle with this outcome, but it is something that cannot be helped.” As the room began filling with hushed murmurs and sounds of surprise, Longarm motioned toward Highbrow. “Before I knew your former employer as my predecessor I knew him on another level, one where I was approached as a means to verify the validity of Cybertron’s intelligence division. As in charge as we are with the communications of the lowest and highest threat levels it can only be reasoned why even the Magnus would see that tests of approval were necessary to the standing and life of this department. And there I stood as the perfect candidate for these responsibilities.”

Blurr was leaning forward, optics strained. Just what was he hearing and witnessing? Just what were they talking about? Were they really . . . ?

Longarm paused, his smile that followed looked apologetic, and Blurr wouldn’t dismiss that lingering look given in his direction. “I came to you as Longarm Prime, and know that I interacted with you as such and intend to leave memory logs as your friend Longarm, but, now it is time you know the mech who observed this department behind Longarm’s optics.”

There, before everyone, Longarm Prime transformed. His arms and legs lengthened, his struts shifted and chassis broadened until his helm morphed into a face without, and a bright scarlet optic cast its glare among the entirety of the room.

“It is with great honor that I am finally able to introduce myself to this group of individuals I’ve had the privilege of getting to know. I am Shockwave, confidante of Dai Atlas who collaborated with Highbrow to organize my audit of the Elite Intelligence.”

Blurr’s shocked face was just one in the crowd, his stunned silence shared by many other ‘bots in that moment of surprise. But the growing noise of gasps and comments of confusion clouded many of the things running through the speedster’s processor, especially when the mech who’d given him the best fragging of his life turned out to be the mech who wore the guise of his beloved.

I’m sorry, what?

“I’m confidant to reveal your impressive score. Where possible doubts were assumed in underlays of the division, my assessment has disproven these negatory views. Intel was handled per code persists, security never once wavered under my observation, and agents were efficient and outstandingly loyal.” He turned to look toward Highbrow. “Whatever you did to shape the department into what they are now, I commend you, sir.”

The two mechs shook servos and congratulated the other with appealing words. After that Dai Atlas had a few moments to speak to the congregation, and then Highbrow named off Longarm’s— _Shockwave’s_ —successor. Blurr had nothing against Metalhawk, but his focus wasn’t on his new boss, only on the one leaving, the one just vanishing as if he had never been there because he hadn’t, had he? There had been no Longarm Prime at all, not then, not before, not even the previous night when they were a mess of fluids and tangled limbs.

What. The. Frag?

After it all there was a surprise supplement supply. It wasn’t one to farewell Longar—Shockwave, but in honor of the division exceeding expectations and passing the audit. High grade was provided along with many other delicacies. This gave ‘bots the opportunity to rub elbow gears with the likes of Dai Atlas, or even the legendary Highbrow. Of course, as well as get the chance to properly meet Shockwave.

There had to be a mile of ‘bots in line, all waiting in turn to obtain a moment to speak to the mech and learn more than what they had thought they knew about him. Hands were shaken, greetings and partings pleasantly exchanged. More than anything Shockwave was questioned about previous actions whilst under the guise of Longarm, and more than once the violet mech expressed his remorse for deceiving everyone. But it had been his duty, they couldn’t crucify a ‘bot for that.

Blurr considered getting in that line to meet the mech and ask him many of the thousands of questions ramming their way into his CPU, but he knew he’d never get the moment to, not with the mass he was constantly surrounded by. Besides, Blurr knew himself. If he had managed to get to the front of the line and reach out to shake his hand there was a high chance he’s just stop working. What could he say? Really?

In truth Blurr wanted to leave. He wanted to return to his apartment or maybe even hit the roads for a therapeutic drive. Not that any of those things would help his currently breaking internal systems. He felt sick, he really did, and he wondered if he’d ever recover from the absolute devastation he felt shattering his entire persona.

With a glance to his left, Blurr noticed Quickshadow’s presence. They nodded in acknowledgement before Blurr noticed her examination. That light in her optics, those features that would shift when understanding fell into place, Blurr knew the signs of her intelligence. But she was silent as she moved on, passing him by as the others had and would continue to do.

“Can you believe it?” To his right was Cliffjumper, arms crossed, shaking his helm. “After all this time Longarm’s been the one on covert. I’m surprised they didn’t mark us off for subjecting infiltration, Primus knows no one caught on.” With a snort he threw his hands in the air and then made his way toward the refreshment area.

Blurr remained, an anchor in a passing tide. He just wanted it all to end. He stayed for as long as politely appropriate before he took off. After it all, he raced down every street on Cybertron that evening, and even after that he was left dissatisfied.

His ailment persisted and Blurr contemplated calling off work for the day but knew better. He didn’t want to give Metalhawk a reason to distrust his ethics and so he dragged himself back to the department that morning. With each closing distance Blurr felt heavier, slower, and never before had he come upon a reason to abhor his place of work than he did then.

There wasn’t much change in comparison to Longarm’s—Blurr really needed to stop referring to him as that—structure. Metalhawk was easy enough to understand and pleasant enough to comply with in regards to his perceived priorities and duties of the department and all its liaisons. However, even given all of that, Blurr found himself slacking, lacking any proper motivation to effectively perform his required duties.

He simply sat his station until his shift passed him by, and even after that, he only continued to sit. Blurr was a megacycle late to punch-out. Not on purpose.

“. . . Blurr . . .”

“Agent Blurr . . .”

“Blurr . . .”

When Blurr finally pulled himself out of the recess of the bytes of his mainframe he turned in his seat to look at the one tapping his chair and calling out to him. It was Quickshadow. She stood, looking displeased, but for the most part Blurr detected concern in her features.

“Your shift ended some cycles ago,” she announced, jutting her chin toward his monitor. “You best be off before Metalhawk finds a reason to grow irate.”

With a blink Blurr finally realized his error. “O-Oh. I’m-sorry-it-won’t-happen-again.” He stood in a rush, tidying up his station and then collecting his belongings. When he spun around he was surprised to see Quickshadow still present.

She stood there, arms crossed. Her optics shined a light of understanding and empathy. “It’s not easy for a lot of us, you know. And it’ll do you no good to bottle it up. I’m considering taking some much needed leave. I’m sure Metalhawk won’t hold it against you if you do the same.”

She didn’t say anything more. With a nod, Quickshadow walked off, giving Blurr an incentive, one he was now very much considering. And just as he left the building, Blurr’s thoughts turned toward Velocitron, a perfect location to get away from the stresses of work.

“Agent Blurr.”

Stopping, Blurr had about shifted into mid-transformation before he noticed a towering figure approaching. There was Shockwave, standing at the front patio. It reminded the blue mech of the first time he met Longarm Prime. Ironic.

It was only proper to respond back, but Blurr found his glossa too heavy in his mouth, and with so many words fighting for their right to tumble out of his mouth first, the speedster just kept his lip plates sealed. He certainly didn’t trust himself with speech at the moment. But, still, he had to say _something_.

“I-didn’t-expect-to-see-you-here-again.” It was then Blurr noticed his off-glance. He was finding it increasingly difficult to meet him in the optics, er, optic.

“Well now, I shan’t be a stranger to this department. I still have clearances to rewrite for Metalhawk, as well as a few belongings in need of collection.” Shockwave’s vocals were light and friendly enough, but the more Blurr heard him speak the more he heard Longarm and it cut into him with each syllable that he found it hard to simply stand there and take it all.

Nodding, Blurr shifted, intent to walk around him at a wide perimeter. “Well-I-don’t-want-to-keep-you. I’m-sure-you’re-busy.”

Just as Blurr moved around, Shockwave twisted and heightened his frequency. “Not enough to ask for an audience with you.” Blurr stopped. “That is, if you’d let me.”

Blurr felt his resolve rattle. Fists clenched, but he forced them to relax. Turning, he finally looked Shockwave in the optic. “What-do-you-want?”

Now it was Shockwave who was shifting. His posture made it seem as if he held a slight nervousness and the light in his optics was wavered on wary. “I had hoped from my previous expressions that I made it clear my intentions.”

“Intentions?” Blurr rose a brow plate. “What-intentions?”

Blurr could see the desire in Shockwave’s posture to shift closer to him, but respectfully he kept himself from that route. “I never meant to hurt you, Blurr, nor anyone else. As a mech who upholds the importance of your occupational duties, and so I expect you to understand.”

Understand. Oh, yeah, Blurr understands. For sure.

Nodding, Blurr asked, “And-what-exactly-am-I-to-understand, sir? I-understand-missions, I-understand-duty, I-understand-loyalty-and-resolve. What-I-don’t-understand-is-why-you-came-to-me-as-both-and-expected-me-to-accept-you-as-anyone-different-but-the-same-mech. What-do-you-want-me-to-understand, _sir_?” Blurr could feel his core temperature rising. For a moment he thought he might have detected static in his vocals. Primus he just wanted to off and drive.

“It is only fair that you feel this way.” Shockwave nodded as if he understood what Blurr was experiencing. No, he most certainly didn’t. “I want you to know that the friendships I’ve made here were genuine.”

“Even-the-one-with-me?” Blurr’s optics were narrowed, upset and hurt weren’t easy to hide any longer.

“I think we both know we were far from friends after my departure.” Damn it all. Blurr hated the sultry pitch in Shockwave’s tone. Because, one, it was sexy as slag, and two, the bastard was right.

“Oh-yeah?” Blurr crossed his arms. “And-I-suppose-you-fully-expected-to-carry-on-that-charade-even-after-the-curtains-were-closed?”

Shockwave actually nodded. “I did. Supposing you didn’t view it as a charade. I most certainly didn’t.” Wait, what was he saying? “In the guise of another ‘bot or not, I don’t intend to simply leave the ones I’ve come to know and cherish here.” Shockwave finally had the bearings to take a step forward, and Blurr stood there, just stood there and let him approach him, let his field reach out to brush his own. “I know it was unprofessional, and by the regulations I so strictly enforced, I believe it’d only be right I take the fault. But my feelings for you were genuine. And after what happened between us I had hoped you felt the same.”

The last of Blurr’s resolve broke there. The static came, lacing his vocal tone. “Of course I did.” Even his speech began to slow. “I’ve cared about . . . for so long . . . and when I finally . . .” You see? Too much on his processor, he couldn’t function properly. “When I finally got what I wanted you leave. What am I supposed to do or think or say? It’s not fair, it’s not fair at all.”

Helm hung and shoulder struts slumped, Blurr felt himself slow. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity before he felt the lightest of touches against his shoulder plates. Looking up, he could see Shockwave was reaching out with ginger earnest. And Blurr let him.

“I, on the other hand, can’t think of a more opportune time to leave.” Shockwave’s touch shifted, a claw hooking the smaller mech’s chin and tilting his face up further. “It is frowned upon to form relationships within the same department, and repercussions are dealt with mercilessly. However, I find no log, code, or law that prohibits a relationship forming between ‘bots hailing from differing sectors.”

A twitch of a smile formed on Blurr’s facial plating. He shifted, moving his helm away, looking at something else besides Shockwave. “I don’t think I know you well enough to confidently want that.”

Shockwave nodded. “Then why not get to know me? If it’s not too much trouble. I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know you once, and I know I’ll find myself just as privileged to get to know you all over again.”

Blurr was surprised to feel his facial plating warm at Shockwave’s words. Even the field rubbing against his own began coaxing him forward toward that direction. It certainly was that flattery that made him nod and smile and actually look back at the mech in the end.

“I would like that, Shockwave.”


End file.
